“Definitely a concussion,” Ash said, frowning at the big handsome man, all long body and sinewy muscles. “I’ve never heard him talk like that.”
“Hello, I’m right here,” Xav said crustily, trying to rise.
Ash pushed him back to the floor. “Take a minute to gather your wits, cowboy.”
“My wits have never been so gathered.” He sat up and glared at her, then stared at his brown cowboy hat mournfully. “She killed it.”
Mallory had the nerve to giggle, and Xav looked even more disgusted, as if he thought it rude that someone laughed at crushing his cowboy hat with a Santa Claus doorstop before they’d been introduced.
“It’ll be all right.” Ash took the hat from him, put it on a chair, inspected his head. “I do believe that hat saved your thick skull. There’s not a scratch on you.”
“Well, thanks for that.” He stood, and Ash steered him toward one of Mallory’s soft, old-fashioned Victorian sofas. Before she could get him past the babies and onto the sofa, Xav stopped, staring down into the bassinettes, transfixed by the tiny infants inside. The four babies slept peacefully, undisturbed by the strong, determined male visitor in their midst.
“Hmm,” Xav said, “pretty cute little stinkweeds.”
For all the times she’d envisioned introducing the babies to their father, never had she imagined he’d call his adorable offspring stinkweeds. Ash stiffened, her bubble bursting, and Mallory laughed and excused herself, saying she was going to go hunt up some tea and cinnamon cake.
“Stinkweeds?” Ash demanded. “Is that the best you can do?”
Xav hunkered down on the sofa, rubbed his head. “I think at the moment, yes. In a minute, when the headache passes, I can probably be more creative.” He looked at her. “You didn’t introduce me to your friend, but I assume these babies are her grandkids?”
He must have noted her astonished expression because he quickly said, “Or are you running a babysitting service?”
Great. He might seem fine after a crack on the head, but the truth was going to blow his mind.
On the other hand, maybe it was best if Xav didn’t know he was a father. She could convince him to go on his merry way and never look back.
No. That didn’t sound right, either. He’d tracked her down, he was here. These were his children. There was no going back.
“Actually, Xav,” she said, “these aren’t Mallory’s babies.”
“Ah, well. It’s not important.” He reached into a bassinet and touched one baby gently. “If I’d drawn them in a poker game, I’d say they were a perfect four of a kind.”
Her heart melted just a bit, dislodged from its frozen perch. “Really? You think they’re perfect?”
“Sure. I’ve seen tons of rugrats around Rancho Diablo. These are cute. Look a bit like tiny elves with scrunched red faces.” He stood, picked his hat up off the sofa where Mallory had put it, stared at the damaged crown with a raised brow. “But I didn’t come here to admire someone’s kids, Ash.” He looked into her eyes, and her heart responded with a dangerous flutter. “I’ve come to take you home for the holidays.”
Copyright © 2014 by Tina Leonard
ISBN-13: 9781460329306
A COWBOY’S ANGEL
Copyright © 2014 by Pamela Britton
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